


A Woman of Mercy

by Miss M (missm)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Javert Survives, Character Death Fix, Community: makinghugospin, Crack, Family, Gen, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cosette and Javert are both grateful to one another, albeit for different reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Woman of Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> From a kinkmeme prompt: "It's not that Cosette doesn't like her father's eccentric friend. It's that Javert is terrible with children and Cosette can't figure out a tactful [way] to tell him seriously, just don't talk to them until they're old enough for sarcasm. When she finally gives up on tact, everyone is relieved, Javert most of all."

Marius had asked her father to help him with some documents of a financial nature, which left Cosette and M. Javert alone in the parlour, each perched on an elegant chair, drinking tea from elegant cups and trying to make conversation. It was not always so easy, Cosette thought. She had come to grow fond of this man, if only because her father was and they seemed so happy together, despite their bickering. Indeed, it was thanks to M. Javert that the secret of her father's past had been revealed to her at last, allowing Cosette and her Papa to grow closer than ever despite her marriage, and for that she was more grateful to him than she could say. But gratitude alone could not quite compensate for the awkward situations that tended to arise during these visits.

"And how are the children, Madame?" said Javert. She suspected he only asked because they had already discussed the weather (dreadful), the roses outside the window (the gardener's pride and joy), and the upcoming dinner (a new cook with a wonderful talent for preparing goose had recently been hired).

Though Cosette was always happy to talk about her children, she could not help but wince a bit at the question, remembering how Fantine had refused to come out of the nursery during the visit before the last. "Quite well, thank you."

As if by magic, or perhaps some ironic twist of fate, there was a knock on the door. The nursemaid, Mme Lagarde, entered with the twins in tow. "Madame," she said, a cheerful smile on her face, before nodding towards Javert. "Monsieur. The girls would like to say hello."

Cosette winced again, but managed to smile towards the twins. "Well, my darlings! Come and say hello to M. Javert!"

Fantine glanced nervously out from behind Mme Lagarde's skirts, then made a mad dash towards her mother and buried her face against her knees. Cosette lifted her onto her lap.

Jeanne, on the other hand, wobbled cheerfully towards M. Javert and waved her plump hands. "Ja-vehh!" she said happily.

Javert stared at her with a helpless look on his face. Cosette was suddenly reminded of a whispered conversation she'd overheard, between him and her father -- _"They would be happy to call you Uncle, you know." "Uncle! That's ridiculous. Why not Grandmother, while we are at it?"_ \-- and she felt a strange urge to giggle. Schooling her features into gentle calm, she patted Fantine's head reassuringly.

Jeanne was now pawing at Javert's knees, an expectant look on her face. Javert glanced sideways at Cosette. "What is the meaning of this?" His voice was suspicious.

"She wants you to pick her up, I believe," Cosette said. It did not surprise her in the least; Jeanne had always been the more reckless of the twins.

Javert stared down at the child with the look of a man who has always relied on himself to climb and never, ever expected anyone else to raise him up. "I'm afraid I will have to decline."

Mme Lagarde broke into the conversation. "Jeanne drew this for you, Monsieur," she said, producing a sheet of paper with some scrawls on it and holding it out. Javert took it gingerly, as if afraid it would sting him, and frowned at it. "And what is this, if I may ask?"

"You!" said Jeanne happily. Javert stared at the black doodles. Cosette was torn between amusement and pain. "Hm," Javert said.

Mme Lagarde beamed. "Charming, isn't it?"

"Oh, certainly -- as charming as fifteen drunken criminals in straightjackets on a Sunday morning," Javert muttered. Mme Lagarde pursed her lips. Cosette closed her eyes.

Meanwhile Jeanne, while not understanding his words, obviously sensed from the tone of his voice that his amount of gratitude was not to her satisfaction. Her lips wobbled; then she suddenly started banging her tiny fists against his knees. "You're mean!" she bellowed.

"I am honest," said Javert tersely, "and violence, Mademoiselle, is always unacceptable, regardless of your young age." He looked helplessly at Cosette again, in the same way he'd done the first time someone -- probably Cosette's father -- had insisted he hold the infant Fantine. _What am I supposed to do with this?_ the look said.

Cosette took pity on everyone in the room. "Thank you, Mme Lagarde," she said, gently removing Fantine's arms from where they were clinging to her neck. "I believe it is time for the girls' nap soon."

After an icy-faced Mme Lagarde had escorted the two crying children from the room -- Jeanne was still howling with anger, and Fantine had joined her out of apprehension and general solidarity -- Cosette turned towards Javert. "Monsieur," she said, deciding she must speak now or forever hold her tongue. "I do greatly appreciate your presence in our lives, and most importantly your presence in Papa's life. However..." She hesitated, but decided to plunge on. "I believe it may be for the best if you and the children do not interact directly for a while. Not forever, of course, just until they are old and wise enough to understand you better... Perhaps a decade will do."

Her fear of insulting him disappeared instantly at the look on Javert's face: it was one of such gratitude and relief that she almost wondered if not _she_ ought to be insulted. "Madame," he said. "Your father will be proud of you."

Cosette blinked, taken aback. "Because of this? Why?"

"Because," said Javert, getting to his feet and offering her a bow, "you have just proved that you are truly a woman of mercy, a lifesaver, a bringer of grace." Here he smiled contentedly. "And not even your father will be able to argue with me about _that_."


End file.
